Tumblr Is Doing Some Stupid AI Shit So Go To Blog Settings > Visibility > Prevent Third-party Sharing.

Those random reblogs, and the likes are amazing to see <3

I know it sounds dumb but, it's nice.

I'll always write if someone is there to enjoy it.

School is absolutely kicking me. I really don't know when I can write. It's just frustrating, and I'm kind of burnt-out.

I'm halfway through the werewolf x reader thing.

But I don't know.

My exams are finally fucking done. I'll get back onto my K-9 reader x COD boys now... should be done in a bit.

Let's goo

May or may not be hung over thinking about a feline könig.....

Fuck it.

Km gonna write it.

Don't mic alcohol kids, never drink clear liquor, then drink after cloudy. Don't dink more than one kind of alcohol. Stick to what you started with, with water between.

Prob the only reason I'm conscious today.

I haven't seen anyone write this yet and I'm low-key surprised :0 but can you write how Price , Ghost , Soap , Konig , Alejandro and Rudy react to seeing their bf wearing like one of those sexy army uniforms ? Like those slutty Halloween costumes that are really just camo lingerie and a hat

Maybe where the men just got back to base after a exhausting mission and go to their room after showering only to see reader waiting for them all dressed up for them and the reader says something like "That must've been an exhausting mission soldier , let me reward you for all your hard work"

Reader is teasing them so much all while feigning innocence and acting like he's oblivious to how worked up they are and then yk fucking ensues

Bonus if reader wears like something of theirs , like Prices hat , one of Ghost and Konigs masks , etc.

SEXY ARMY UNIFORM

WARNINGS: sexual other than that, nothing

A/n: This is what imagined when I was writing this

ALEJANDRO

“Vas a ser mi muerte, amor.” (You're going to be the death of me, love.)

He’s all over you, so if you had any other plans for that evening, you can go ahead and call those off. Alejandro literally spends hours worshiping you from head to toe. He loves the outfit; it makes him go crazy. When he takes the outfit off of you, he makes sure to not rip anything because he definitely wants you to wear it again.

GHOST

"FUCK."

That's all he says before he ponces on you. The outfit drives him wild and if you're also wearing one of his masks; you are a goner. He is going to eat you up. As much as he loves the outfit, he is going to ripping it off of you. Later Ghost will apologize about ripping up the outfit like a heathen by buying you a nice lingerie set.

KONIG

"OH MY GOD."

Konig is shocked. When you said you had something to show him, he was not expecting this. He warms up to it but it takes a hot minute. He shyly asks you to ride him while wearing the outfit. When you give the poor man what he wants, he becomes a red hot blushing mess. 10/10. Recommend riding the man while forcing him to keep eye contact. It's a sight to see.

PRICE

"Sweatheart, you look amazing."

He thinks you look drop dead gorgeous. But at first he is shocked because he didn't expect to return to your guys' barracks to see you in such a scandalous outfit. If you're wearing one of his hats, you got his heart skipping beats. He responds to the outfit very well and makes a couple of lude comments.

RUDY

"Pareces un dios." (You look like a god.)

Rudy is shocked but quickly warms up to it. He will worship you from head to toe, much like Alejandro. He will literally pray at your feet like your a god. He just thinks you're so goddamn hot.

SOAP

“Where’s mine?”

After Soap's question, he will start to get a little handsy all while asking if you're going to fuck him while wearing it or if you're going to let him fuck you while wearing it. Soap doesn’t really care if he’s bottom or top. As long as you're wearing the outfit while everything is going down, he’s a happy man.

don't give up

[Dark_MS_Reader]...prt:1_》》》

I love, love, love the whole monster dynamic or unusual traits that are explained by "Oh, it's not human. That's why" honestly, I just like weird people with weird quirks. So eh.

•Part 3 will be linked when done

Edit: it's done!

《《《(masterlist)》》》

</[T|W:]> injury and death, death related trauma, mild body horror, medical malpractice, inhuman depictions, sexualization of disability, sexualization of insecurity, use of multiple cultures and religions (could be wrongfully used, if so. Tell me!!),

</[C|W]> reader is dark with intrusive or dark thoughts. But strictly SFW. So no smut. Aslo intended male reader,

The first time you arrived on this content, you were hog tied, a thick steel cord used to immobilize you. The guards even muzzled you as if you could bite them with any kind of force that could necessitate this kind of restraint.

It was half for the humiliation of dragging you over the dirtied port, the gravel and sand, and salt that scrap into your already tattered cloths. The burn against the neglected and painful remains of your body. Half that this was to make you look dangerous.

The hulking man carrying you hardly glances at you as he dropped your limp body on the deck. Considering it doest get a reaction out of you, it doesn't startle the werewolf there.

Most humans only want to interact with the inhabitants that look human. Considering most affected by lycanthopic bodies, appear human. At least sometimes. The guard preferred them to be present at the coastal office.

And that's how you were left.

No paperwork, no notice that you were coming.

Just.

Dropped off at the wolf's feet and abandoned to whatever they would do to you now that you're here.

It's the first time in a while that you could just shut your eyes and ignore everything around you. The guards weren't too kind to you while you were in their care.

They had set you up, those werewolves, with a home. A small, dingy, half abandoned thing surounded by nothing and no one. And gave you time to heal.

They would visit you, that leader you met the first day specifically; though many jokingly called him 'Alpha' when he was around his friends. But when he had come to you on the fourth day. Your body now regaining strength. He walked into a startling scene. He hadn't even smelt the blood.

He, Lucas you later over heard him being called, watched as you methodically cleaned the many wounds that engulf your body. Shirt discared beside you, seeing the full expanse of those injuries new and old on display. You're only covered by a pair of boxers as you work. Watching how you took thick strips of the bandage to temporarily cut blood flow above as you cleaned each wound on your arm.

Holding the loose edges held between your teeth, your free hand disinfecting the rotting edges of skin and muscle. He was ready to jump and stop you when he watched you grap the bisecting scissors, and yet he didn't. Only forced to stare in abject horror as you started to cut the rotten edges of the gashes of. Small snips that carved out the dead tissue. Leaving fresh rivets of blood slowly dripping down your skin.

It had taken him a few moments of standing there to see you were struggling. The pain flaring up from your work, becoming overwhelming while thin tears stream down your face. Yet you utter nothing but silence into the blood-stained cloth between your teeth.

That's when he actually apaoches the bed, being careful to wait till you put those scissors down before he asks what he can do to help.

"Sit here. I need to wrap it."

Lucas was slow to follow. He was so terrified that you were doing this wrong, hurting yourself in a delusional want for the pain to stop. He couldn't help but ask.

"You know what you're doing here, doll?"

"Yeah." Your hitching breath makes your voice stutter, "done it before."

That makes his chest tight, a feeling he associated with his werewolf friends. Because. Well.

"You've done it to yourself before?"

"No. Just inmates."

"You some kind of doctor?"

"Not a practicing one."

That arm now taken care of, you focus on the other.

Lucas loses his train of thought to the picture of the malnourished man before him having an illegal medical office.

"Your not a doctor?"

"I am." You mutter to his absolute confusion,

Pulling his hand to your shoulder, handing him the end of the ternicate, he holds it on autopilot. Lucas stares as you start the process all over again. These look like they are from a whip

"I don't work as one." You clarify. Using the conversation as a mid point for the dance between pain and relief. "I worked as a mortician."

"What."

"I worked with the dead-"

"Oh, yes. I got that but. Why? Why not be a doctor if you can. Well."

"More people died where I lived."

He can tell it's only half a lie, but he can't exactly see what.

"Never needed to save anyone."

All he could do was say, as sincerely someone who couldn't understand, that.

"I'm sorry you ended up here."

It stuck in Lucas's mind.

The knowledge that you were a doctor. Someone who could help.

But was it his place to ask?

Could he ask you? Was it too soon or too late to even try?

When he brought it up to one of the old Naga that enjoyed his company, she told how helpful someone like you could be.

To human.

Very few doctors even touch the non-human side of medical care. And even fewer would actually touch a monster. So it was a slim to none, chance you knew how to help any of them.

They weren't even sure of your own humanity or lack thereof.

"But tell you of it, Lu," she wound her coils tighter around herself. Resting her head against the shimmering scales, "If, and it be a big if. That man be a healer, he will fulfill the oath all doctors take."

He watched her thin tongue taste the air. The ugly edge from where it was docked, disappearing again behind her lips. It made certain syllables painful to say. It made her speech irregular, and some Grammer off, bit aleast she had her toungue.

"Many healer, medicinal or not. Will treat all who fall. It be only thier know how that keep those they help alive."

The vampiric monarch that lived out South was the best bet to test what Dai said.

Lucas had taken you on a tour, showing you how they tried to help each other on the huge city they gathered in. It was late dusk, but he knew he could still try.

The thralls that romed inside were lethargic as he led you further in the hotel looking housing.

Many of them hunched over in the halls, huddled close. If escaping the setting sun or your presence, well. You weren't quite sure.

And just as you try to move towards the excite, a shrill hiss breaks out behind you. This young girl, with a sqeaky hiss, was doubled over. Clutching at her shoulder.

"Oh, fuck. Sal, I'm so sorry!"

You could see the sizzling skin before she near calapsed.

Moving as if by spell, you cuaght her befote she could actaully fall. Careful to place her more gently down against the wall.

It's hardly a thought as you lift your sleeve, still holding that child so she wouldn't hurt herself. You rip open the berely closed wound there on your palm. The blood seeoping into her shirt and engulfs the wound in a few quick seconds.

You have the gash re-wrapped before the teen who bumped her is there to hold her as the blood heals her.

"Dai was right," Lucas whispers, as quiet as he could. "She said this could happen."

"And what had Dai spoken of the man holding my niece?"

The old morge on the outskirts of town was now yours. Lucas said it was just an empty lot, just a place for you to finally settle. Even if it was run down.

The citizens each pitching in to help set the place up, a carpenter Tanuki who was just passing by or the siren that just so happen to be an electrician needing a spained wing checked, and the slow trickle of each patient started up not long after.

It started with the bigger things, a broken bone here, and a deadly illness there. Just the worste most couldnt handle, like pregnancies or viseral injuries. But then you started to step up and werw seeking out people to help anywhere you could.

In the bay sector, where most aquatic or amphibious residence stay, keeping them from friction burn during shedings. Or the construction sights, who always had a sprian or a bruise or a nick you could see to.

Always with the same excuse. Just that you needed some food and then you were dragged into a group to eat with them and well, might as well clean and fix up that cut they have while you're here, right?

No, it's no trouble. Saves the trip if it gets worse, doesn't it?

You met Dai, found the Monarch of those Vampire's hunkering down in the hotel. Finding his name was Emile, or that's what people gave him as a nickname. You even met the rest of the shifters, or more specifically, the leader who would collect and help that specific type of shifter.

Day in and day out, you kept going, kept looking till you found the ship you needed pulling up to shore.

Not a lot of people knew you dealt in black market trades. Only the ones who needed to know, did.

Most just thought is was a simple trade.

You know, some fresh goods for medication. Or knowledge for medical supplies. And yes, sometimes. It was just that.

At the end of each week, you would filter into the decks where you were first dumped here to meet with some of your contacts. Trading what you scavenged from ypur work to keep the shelves well stocked.

It wasn't like you made any money, nor had you ever asked for any. So it wasn't a stretch to say this was the only way to keep things as they where.

That isn't to say you didn't keep some things.

Quills from a lionfish who contracted a bacterial infection on some of his spines. Fangs from that vampire girl, Sal, as she started sheding them. Small bundles of feathers from the flock of sirens that fly with avians.

It was all just so much better.

That was until the second spring hit the city.

Does anyone ever start a very old fic (currently reading one 5 ish years old), and you wonder if the writing gets better?

Update, it got so much fucking better.

The author is only 15 when they started. How is it that good by the end????!!

Shit deserves a hard corver print.

Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be a rough touch to show ownership. It can be light and subtle as ever; a hand on the lower back, a lax arm around the waist, being so familiar with their body like being familiar with their coffee order - splash of milk no sugar- fingers resting just below the spot where you know their birth marks, scars or tattoos lay, gently brushing over clothed skin carefully avoiding the spots where you know they’re ticklish and watching the way they lean into your embrace with a smile on their face.

Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be crashing your lips onto theirs in front of someone who is trying to flirt with them. It can be an indirect kiss- taking a drag from their cigarette, and tasting the sickly sweet lip balm they always wear on the tobacco stick - the cigarette smoothly shifting from their fingers onto yours like this little habit of yours had been ingrained into their bones, or drinking from their drinks - specifically from the one a stranger had bought for them, the sudden appearance of your hand onto their beer glass barley phasing them as they continue on with the conversation they are having with the stranger- your lips resting just on the place where theirs have been, spots still wet from when they had taken a sip, while flashing a smile at the strangers over the rim , you and the strangers now both aware that you’re the only who knows how those lips feel.

Possessiveness doesn’t always have to be growling “mine” into their ear. It can be something simple as causally mentioning their name in conversations with family and friends, so much so even strangers know them through the stories you’ve told them, maybe even adding a little my in front of their name, not so much in a possessive tone but rather with a certain familiarity and fondness when talking about the socks they tend to leave scattered around the apartment or using the endearment when talking to your significant other, looking at their glittery eyes and big smile as you hand them a gift they’ve wanted for a long time, because of course you know what to get for your love, right?

Open_<p1nn3dm3ss4g3.exe>....

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... 〔 Yes/No 〕 ...

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Welcome: [Reader]

</Currently viewing:> [The-Entitie_(Axar)]_on_<tmblr.com>

《LvL: [19] | 》DoB: [21/01/2005]

《Gender: [T Male] | 》Residence: [RSA]

All communications are 【(open)】, Axar is ready to help!

</「more_contact_options.link」>

</Can_not_write:>

For a disability I do not have, unless, with a reputable source, explaining said disability in detail. Includes both mental and physical disabilities

Strictly female reader. I will write reader or characters afab but not directly female. Gender neutral or fem looking are complete fine.

Any rape or non-con scene. I will write cnc and tag it as such, but not actaul non-con

Copraphillia, urophillia, scat, or the like. Blood, however, is ok. As well as light piss kinks that are not with the previously stated things.

Pedophilia (MAPS don't exist. Fuck off), Zoophillia, Sexual age/pet regression, infantalism, ABDL and such. Nothing sexual with any kind of underdeveloped mental or cognizant abilities.

○Note: This list can change or be added to○

If you are unsure, feel free to ask. I will warn you that I can be a smart ass or sound rude, but that is not my intent. It is just how I was raised.

</Notable_Tags[#]>

○Note that all are tagged on this post for ease of filtering○

#not_writing [all none writing posts]

#personal_notes [just thoughts or ideas]

#authors_notes [related to writing posts]

#minimuim.exe [the smaller (under a paragraph) writing posts]

#wip.txt [uncompleted, but puplished works]

#re_blog.exe [rebloged post from other blogs]

#anti_AI.doc [fuck Ai and all its scummy doings]

[/Masterlist:]

</Captain_John_Price>_

</Old_man_[Prince]> who_wears_glasses_×_male_reader_

</Kyle_Gaz_Garrick>

</Avian_[Gaz]> sub_[Avian_Gaz]_x_Gender.Not.Stated_top_Reader

</K-9_Unit_Reader>_

</[Part:1]> Includes:_[Price]_[Soap]_[Ghost]_[König]_[Alejandro]_×_Reader_

</[Part:2]> Includes:_[Rudy]_[Gaz]_[uncompleted_Keegan]_[to_be_added]_×_Reader_

</Succubus_Reader>_

</[Part:1]> Dragon_[Price]_&_TF_141_×_Succubus_Reader_

</[Part:2]> Wraith_[Ghost]_×_Werewolf_[Soap]_×_Reader_

</Dark_MS_Reader>_

</[First_thought:_will_be_intro]>

</[Part:2]> more_thorough_Introduction_

</[Part:3]> Alpha_werewolf_x_male_reader_

</[Uncompleted]> Vampire_monarch_×_reader_

-Old man price with glasses x male reader ● | ♡

</Poly_[Lovers]_Group.Chat> Tattoed_Top_×_Soft_Boy_Switch_×_Bottom_GN_Reader_

request:

reader jokingly puts a bell on miguel o’hara since he approaches so quietly he tends to startle you and the other spiders. he tolerates it because the humor improves work morale

little did he know that the bell will be jingling all night as you fuck him mercilessly

𝗛𝗜𝗦 𝗦𝗜𝗟𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗕𝗘𝗟𝗟

✧ 𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦 male reader x miguel o'hara

✧ 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 top!amab! reader, bottom! miguel, public blowjob, anal sex, saliva used as a lubricant, consensual suffocation, breath play, implied reader being a spider. minors dni.

✧ 𝖠/𝖭 my archive of editable images of miguel is over, accept this random edit then. I used a lot of words that I don't know very well, so please let me know if I've used something wrong

It was hard to hear anything but the unbearable jingling of the silver bell reverberating through his sensitive hearing; the little ball of iron inside the round shape swayed with fairy clinks where it was attached to the leather strap that tightened around his neck. A joke, had been how Miguel interpreted the unusual gift you said laughing that it was to know when he approached. A lame joke, but still, he let you close the noisy choker around his neck and accepted the kiss you pressed against his lips pursed in annoyance.

During the day, when the spiders shared laughter and a fun that Miguel didn't understand at the gift you gave him, Miguel hadn't paid attention to how the choker tightened his neck, how it accompanied the rise and fall of his throat ─ that he only noticed when you had him on his knees in a blind spot inside the Spider Society tower, and at the risk of being overheard by all nosy and curious spiders, pressed your cock deep into his tight throat until Miguel gasped and struggled for breath, bell rattling violently. The choker felt like your hands squeezing his neck.

After that, the ringing of the silver bell brought a faraway look that no one understood to his face, no one but you. He was remembering that moment, remembering your cock straining his mouth and the sounds you made each time his fangs grazed your cock, the danger of the act that was enough to make you both come, quickly. He found himself unable to get rid of the accessory.

And Miguel was aware of your eyes fixed on his neck as he spoke. Hypnotized. And he would be lying if he said he didn't know what was coming next.

The bell sounded like a drum as you smacked him against the front door of the apartment before Miguel could even close it. You demanded his attention, ravaging his mouth with symbolic violence and sweet urgency, tearing the civilian clothes Miguel wore until they were mere scraps of rags lying on the floor. All this so you could get your hands on his bare skin, map out the scars, the muscles firm and strong and his cock already eagerly hard for you.

You always seemed to want him so badly that it never ceased to amaze him.

You grabbed his bare thighs and lifted him into the air, pressing his back against the rickety door. As if he weighed nothing. Your strength would always surprise you, not because there wasn't someone stronger than Miguel or unable to take him down with pure physical strength, but because you never used your strength to hurt him, you treated him as something fragile and that should be taken care of.

And when the hurried stretching of his hole left him panting and clinging to you, silently begging for more through his grunts and moans and gasps, you kissed him and using only saliva to facilitate penetration, you slid your cock inside him.

The slide knocked the breath out of Miguel's lungs, the friction undiminished by the makeshift lubrication leaving him feeling every delicious inch of your cock opening in his flesh, demanding space.

Lips against his, even though you weren't kissing anymore and the hand that wasn't holding him high, closing around his neck just inches away from the choker, you started fucking him hard against the door. The bell reverberated with a loud bang, swaying along with your movements in and out of his ass and that was all Miguel could concentrate on: the stretching, the burning still there, the sound of the damn bell.

Miguel's eyes rolled back, tears streaming down his flushed cheeks and he searched for air, desperately gasped for oxygen ─ and you didn't have to look at his face to know it, the divine image of open mouth and spittle running down his chin; you could feel his throat rippling under your grip, heartbeat fluttering beneath your fingers. The leather strap there, close to your hand, seemed to become tighter, reflecting the pressure imposed by your fingers.

Miguel was shaking now, talons drawing blood from your shoulders, legs gripping around your waist, unable to move, unable to get away from the deep thrusts he could feel in his stomach or the bell that deafened his senses. He couldn't breathe.

White filled his vision and Miguel gasped as the oxygen suddenly handed back to him, the thud of his head hitting the door a distant sound. Maybe he came, maybe he passed out for a few seconds in your arms, but it didn't matter, he knew you were far from done with him.